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gasolineghuleh · 17 days

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Umm the Mary Goore and Secondo one sound good, reeeeaalllllll good 🤤

i picked the Goore one first cause he's my muse and i am booboo the fool

also this is a loose writing style i've been trying out lately. thoughts appreciated!

Words: 2.0k

cw: dead Mary, ghost sex, idk he's a phantom, Ghost, have fun with it.

When you see the strange, smokey shadow in your kitchen you think you're sleep deprived and becoming delusional. You've been at home, alone, all day long, cleaning and relaxing. Sometimes a little self-care consists of scrubbing the everloving hell out of your dirty and dingy apartment. It isn't often that you get the chance to really do some Spring cleaning, but now's the time. "This place has seen some shit," you mutter to yourself. When you kneel down to scrub the kitchen linoleum with a toothbrush - one deemed "unsavable" and useless by dental professionals or normal people - you get the feeling that you're being watched.

Mary, you think his name is. His sharp-featured, pale face is seared into your brain as it floats across your mind-- and not for the first time. He introduced himself to you the week after you moved in, deeming you safe enough to approach because of your nontraditional choices in home decor. Since then, he's visited a fair few times and even managed to physically interact with you most recently.

You'd decided to wear just your panties and a tank top, something light enough so the inevitable sweat didn't make you uncomfortable while cleaning, but now you're slightly regretting the decision. After all, this wasn't really an outfit intended for company. But does it matter, really, if the visitor isn't exactly living? No, you decide, it doesn't. Ghosts are just people... who happen to have died and are possibly able to rattle chains and throw things around. You haven't seen Mary do much of the throwing stuff thing yet, but you'd really rather not test out the possibility in person. And Mary has never done anything bad to you before, never even hurt you... as far as you know.

The feeling of him materializing is distinctive and makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight. It reminds you of sticking your tongue on the batteries inside a remote, or the screen of a dying plasma television. You stand up straight, rolling your shoulders and peeling your gloves off with a snap. Mary, in full form and looking surprisingly human, is standing only a foot behind you and looks almost mischievous. All of his features are the same as they were in life, as far as you're aware. His jawline, high cheekbones and large eyes coupled with his intense eyebrows, tattoos and black hair make him look dangerous. It seems that a person as pretty and delicate-looking as Mary wouldn't be able to say some of the things he does.

"Baby," his voice is like the creaking of the floorboards, "don't turn around." He points over your shoulder, tilting his head to see better behind you. "There's a ghost behind you." You roll your eyes and laugh, turning around shaking your hands in mock fear. Across from you is a full length mirror, with Mary's spectral form perfectly visible. In the smooth glass surface and over your shoulder, he smiles. "Missed you."

"Been a few weeks," is your only reply as you nod, folding your arms under your breasts. "I thought you'd evaporated like left over soup." You don't move, but your thoughts move far too quickly as you scrutinize Mary's visage. He's wearing tight black jeans with holes in the knees, his shirt is black, ratty, covered in grease stains and something that looks alarmingly like blood. His hair is a mess, a well styled black nest framing his face beautifully. It's longer than usual, and the makeup around his eyes is smudged and smeared.

"Is this what you want?" Mary whispers, coming up behind you and threading his fingers through your hair. "Me, actually with you? Solid and warm?" His left hand trails along your clavicle, running up and down your throat before coming back to the opposite end of the bone.

"Mm, more than anything." You allow yourself to lean your head back onto his shoulder, closing your eyes and allowing him to run his hands along your body. "How did you know?" His voice is soft when he speaks, directly into your ear,

"A guy just knows his girl." Mary tucks himself close against you, his hips pressed against the swell of your ass as his hand trails along your midriff, fingers splayed wide across your stomach. "You know if you more, I might not be able to follow you." Already, you're nodding, the decision made long before this point.

"This is home."

"So are you."

When the rough pad of his calloused finger finds the swollen bud of your clit you gasp, your hips rocking back against his with a sharp movement. His other arm winds its way around your waist, holding you against him as he runs lazy circles along your tender nerves with his index finger. His tongue snakes out to trace along the shell of your ear, only serving to further ignite the warmth of arousal already spreading through your lower half and sending goose bumps down your arms. Ever so slightly, your hips are grinding along with Mary's movements, begging for more of his attention without speaking. You lean back, your arm instinctively going around his neck as Mary grinds his teeth gently against the soft skin of your neck.

"Open your eyes." Mary's voice jolts you awake, keeps you from melting into his arms. In the mirror you can see yourself reflected, panties pushed down to allow for his hand to caress you. Your cheeks are flushed with need, lips red and kissable-- and kiss them he does, capturing them in a warm and long-awaited kiss. His left hand, supporting your weight, cups around the swell of your breast to find the hardened bud of your nipple. Already Mary is pinching at you, plucking and pulling you to painful hardness as you moan and writhe in his grip.

"You were too shy to ask me to do this, weren't you?" His breath is hot against your ear as he catches your gaze in the mirror. "Little did you know... You only had to say the word and I'd appear, ready and willing to make you scream."

"Please," is all you can manage, struggling to maintain eye contact with him over your shoulder. His fingers press harder against your clit, finally moving down to your entrance, moving in teasing circles until your hips start to rock against him. With a wordless cry, your legs fall open, inviting Mary to slip a finger inside your tight heat.

It doesn't take long for you to become vocal. Your sounds mix together-- little gasps, breathy moans and needy whimpers-- as you tilt your head back. At first, he almost fucks you on his one digit, curving his long finger into the smooth skin just inside your walls. Instead, he pulls his finger out of you and gathers your slickness onto his index and middle fingers, rolling your clit firmly in the vee he's created. The movement is strong, fluid, constant, driving you forward towards your orgasm slowly but surely. Your legs are spread in a bent W shape as he fingers you, holding you for balance as your toes curl in your socks.

When you cum it's wordless, almost soundless, and the pleasure that wracks your body moves like a freight train through your senses. If feels as if you're watching in third person, coming back to your body as the ripples of pleasure and aftershocks run through you. Mary holds you tightly, cupping your mound to limit your overstimulation but pressing you up against his hips as they continue to rock against you.

"Want you. Need you. Fucking fucking fuck, baby, need you so bad." Mary chokes the words out, barely holding onto his waning self control. "Just wanna bury my cock inside you and kiss you forever, I promise. Touch you. Hold you." He continues to talk as he urges you down gently to the floor, hands scrabbling at the elastic of your panties. You feel the material pull stickily away from your soaked cunt and the kiss of cold air between your legs is welcome. Above you, Mary looks positively ravenous, practically vibrating out of his skin as he positions himself above you. Your knees fall apart in an unconscious invitation, causing Mary's fingers to still at the button of his jeans.

His dark eyes flicker over your face, scrutinizing you. Your head falls back against the linoleum, the sweat making it slip uncomfortably on the shiny, brightly coloured floor, and you laugh. Mary sputters out a laugh above you before placing his hands on either side of your head, leaning over you with a wide grin. "It's always fun with you, Mare," you say with a matching smile, bringing a hand up to card your fingers through his hair. He answers you with a deep kiss, shuffling forward and aligning his cock with your entrance.

As he sinks into you, the sensation is almost dizzying. Being filled has never felt so perfect or so delicious; his shaft stretches you, filling you in the most satisfying of ways, and your hips soon begin to rock as you try to urge him on. Soon Mary is snapping his hips against you, grinding his pelvis into your clit at the base of each push before repeating the process. You're able to see almost every single part of him: His defined, black-painted nails, his plump and pinkened lips, and the empty earring holes in either ear.

"Cum for me," you whisper, pulling him down closer to you and rolling your hips contrecoup to his. Mary's pupils look almost blown at your words, but the green irises contract as he blinks down at you. You can see over his shoulder, his hips moving against you and the pumping of his core as he moves.

Watching him is almost the best part.

Mary comes undone at the smallest things: Rocking your hips up into him makes him let out a loud moan, for instance, and him circling the pad of his finger around the bud of your clit like a figure eight makes you twitch, hips bucking into him. His long hair cascades into your face, occasionally sticking to the sweat you'd worked up washing the floor, and it tickles you in a good way when it brushes against your bare skin. Mary's pale and blood-spattered shirt clings to him, rucked up around his narrow hips to allow him the most access to you and displaying the flat of his abdominals.

"Do it again." His voice is low, ragged and desperate, a hair away from begging for you. "Kiss me." You capture his lips in a fierce kiss, pulling him down into your body as he groans against you. He quickens the pace of his finger and your cunt begins to tighten around him, seeking that electric tension that signals your imminent release. "Please," he begs, thrusting against your knee as you raise your right leg to rub against his side.

"Come on Mare." He whimpers and presses himself deep inside of you, his cock pulsing in time with the rhythm of his heart as he cums hard. His arms shake in his attempts to hold himself up, and two more rolls of his hips have him crying out in pleasure. Mary's fingers swipe across your nub a few more times before you join him, back arching off of the cold floor as your voice fills the room.

"Thank you," Mary whispers, pressing his lips against the crown of your head. "For everything, I mean."

"There's always a place here for you."

#the band ghost fics #the band ghost ficlet #ghost bc fanfic #lorraine writes #mary goore #repugnant #goore #mary goore x reader #reader x mary goore #the band ghost

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dulcidyne · 2 years

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dulrules: tag 9 people you want to get to know better or catch up with

tagged by: the wonderful and talented @dispatchwithlove

favorite color: A nice, vivid dark green, like a phthalo green, and a vivid, autumnal yellow

last song: Something from Hadestown. I was finally able to see it on Broadway last week and before and after the trip I've been listening to it nonstop

currently reading: All Over the Place by Geraldine DeRuiter. She went viral a while back for the most hilarious restaurant review I've ever read of a Michelin star restaurant featuring foam to be licked out of a plaster mold of the chef's mouth. Her memoir is equally hilarious and clever, I just read over this bit: "If you've never traveled on London's subway, it's not unlike being a gerbil run through a maze, except there's no one to hand you delicious pellets when you go the right way. At least, I don't think there is. I've never done anything except go the wrong way so positive reinforcement has never been a factor."

last movie: Spencer, on the airplane. I know watching a movie on an airplane is a bit like setting yourself up to fail but pretty sure better sound quality wouldn't have made me like this movie. I literally gagged in revulsion at the soup scene. Ugh.

sweet, savory, or spicy: All of them at the same time. I want all taste receptors engaged when I eat. Gochujang sauce is the pinnacle of taste for me

currently working on: A day ago I'd say 'nothing' because the part of my brain that processes emotions into words just shut off due to stress and I don't know where that on switch is. But then yesterday I watched something on the end of the universe and it reminded me of what I love so much about sci-fi and all the awe and wonder at just the simple miraculous existence of life in the face of overwhelming adversity and the sheer scale of the cosmos. So I started writing Mass Effect again, specifically Ghost in the Machines, because I watched another video speculating about alien life and they totally cover the purple plants and gas giant monsters that I featured in that fic and I was SO excited you guys haha.

Tagging: really anyone! I'm super late to this and fighting off a bit of post-travel exhaustion so please consider yourself tagged if you haven't already been so

#dulcidyne #tag game

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